


Naked

by rhysndtrash



Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-29
Updated: 2016-10-29
Packaged: 2018-08-27 16:21:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,298
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8408443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rhysndtrash/pseuds/rhysndtrash
Summary: Moriel + "And you're naked."Or, in which Mor has a little bit too much to drink and Az is a complete gentleman.





	

The first time she saw him, she knew.

Mor didn’t know how, or what it would lead to, but she knew that this man was going to make her happy. Maybe it was something about his eyes, the way she would later find out no one could read them but she felt could somehow understand the expressions in them in a deep level, or maybe it was the sheer elegance of his person, from his words to his clothes to his bone structure.

She looked away as he got closer to the bar, where she was sitting with Cassian and Amren, and pretended to be interested in what they were saying.

“Hey, Mor!” Feyre—her best friend and cousin-in-law—said as she approached with her husband and the man-who’s-eyes-made-her-think-of-the-stars—oh, Gods, she couldn’t already be so into him, this man hadn’t even said a word to her!

“Hey, Feyre!” Mor got up to hug her friend hello, and then turned to her cousin. “Hello, Rhys.”

“Mor.” he nodded with a big smile, before turning to the man beside him and putting a hand on his back, “This is Azriel, the newest and awesomest partner of Night Corporations,” her cousin patted the handsome, dark haired man in the back as he offered his hand to Mor. She shook it, feeling chills running up her arms. “He’s here to celebrate the closing of the deal with us!”

Mor laughed at her cousin’s enthusiasm and then smiled politely at Azriel. “Hi.” she felt shy—Gods, how long had it been since Morrigan Stella felt shy? Girls like Mor didn’t get shy around boys, she didn’t like that feeling—and prayed she wouldn’t get flushed in the face. “Congratulations on the deal!”

“Thank you.” Azriel said. His voice was deep and sexy, exactly the way Mor had imagined it would be. “I really like what this company stands for, Mr. Stella has done an amazing job so far. It feels good to be doing good now.”

“How many times do I have to say it, man?” Rhysand laughed. “You don’t have to call me Mr. Stella. It makes me feel old. Rhys is fine.”

“Rhys.”Azriel repeated politely. “Sorry.”

 

 

By two in the morning—three tequilas, two vodkas and six beers later—, the bar was emptying fast. It was a thursday, to be fair, but Mor could tell Rhys was disappointed, especially when Feyre told him she was tired and wanted to go home too. Amren had left long ago intending to get some sleep before she went to the Noctis University tomorrow to teach her Literature Class.

Pretty soon it was just her and Azriel, even though Cassian was somewhere around the bar, talking to some pretty girl. And though they had exchanged polite conversation all night, now that they were alone, Mor felt more and more unsure of herself with each passing moment.

“So, you’re from Noctis, right?” Mor said to break the ice.

“Yeah. Born and raised.” he looked right into her eyes—and she assured herself she was dizzy because of the drinking and not because of the intensity in them. “My mother moved here when she was just a girl, and she’s never wanted to leave since.” he smiled lightly, maybe a bit buzzed too—she noticed he smiled more when he’d had a few drinks—and asked, “What about you though?”

“Oh, I’m actually from a small town in the north. But my cousin’s always lived here and we were always so close…” she said, fiddling with her beer cup. “When I found out about the amazing Gastronomy course they offered at NU, I had to go.”

“Oh, that’s nice.” he said politely. “I wish I had that kind of relationship with my family.”

“Are you not close?” she took a sip of her beer, and made a face as she noticed how warm it’d gotten. She put it down again.

“Not really.” he cleared his throat. “I have two half-brothers, but we’ve never had the kind of relationship where we go out together and share friends or any of that stuff.” he seemed slightly uncomfortable with the subject, twiddling with the napkin under his beer, but she suddenly wanted to know, wanted to just hear about him and understand every detail of his life.

“That’s too bad.” Mor said, and something bold took over her as she put a hand over his and smiled brightly at him. “But, you know, friends can be family, too.”

He smiled back. It was the first time she’d seen him so unguarded, and it was such a vulnerable sight—while managing to convey such strength at the same time—that Mor fell just a bit in love with him right then and there.

“You know what? I have an idea!” Mor said excitedly, yanking her hand out of his to clap once. “Let’s play a drinking game!”

“A—a drinking game?” he laughed. “Aren’t we a little bit old for that?”

Mor hit his shoulder lightly. “Of course not, you’re never too old for drinking games!” she said indignantly, “They’re the best!”

“Fine.” he raised his hands in surrender before taking another sip of his beer. “Fine. But we’ll play with beer, not anything distilled.”

“Oh, don’t be such a coward.” she laughed and rolled her eyes. “Come on, we won’t play with shots, but playing with beer is just plain boring.”

“Oh, Gods, I’m going to regret this in the morning, aren’t I?” He sighed, shaking his head, but finally said: “Fine, have it your way. I’m beginning to think that’s always how it is anyway.”

Mor just winked at him, saying, “You said it.” before ordering two Mojitos. They sat in silence as they waited for their drinks, but it was comforting somehow, and when she risked a look at him, she saw a smile playing at his elegant face.

“Two Mojitos coming up.” Lenny—the nice barman Mor was always told way too much about her personal life to—said, handing her and Azriel their drinks and giving her a polite smile.

“Thanks, Lenny.” Mor smiled back before turning back to Azriel. He was frowning slightly, but she didn’t think much of it as she asked, “You ready?”

“Yeah, sure.”

“Okay, I’ll start.” Mor’s excitement was tangible. “Um, let me think.” she sipped her drink as she thought, not caring that they hadn’t even began the drinking game and she was already drinking—if you knew Mor, you knew one thing, and that’s that she could hold her liquor. “Never have I ever—um, never have I ever had a crush on someone the same sex as me.”

“Nope.” he said smugly and she drank, rolling her eyes.

“Your turn.”

“Okay, um—” he inclined his head to the side as he thought. “Oh, I know! Never have I ever been arrested.”

“Such a good boy.” Mor said huskily, and took a large sip of her Mojito.

“Oh, Gods, really?” he said, ignoring her comment. “I have to hear this story.”

“Oh, I don’t know.” she bit her lip. “It’s a pretty embarrassing.”

“Please.” he said, smiling. “I promise I won’t laugh.” he put his hand to his heart. “Scout’s honor.”

“Okay,” Mor said, unable to resist the look he was giving her, “So this one time, about a week before Feyre and Rhys’ wedding, I got caught with, like, a smudge of pot. It was Feyre’s bachelorette party and, well, the thing is—she had this list. Like a list of all the things that she wanted to do before she got married. And she was freaking out because she was running out of time and she would be committed to someone permanently soon and she wanted a taste of life before she did that or something. There were twenty five things left in the list, and I promised her we would do every single one of them that very night.

“Anyway, that night we danced with strippers, she got a tattoo of a moon on her shoulder, we shoplifted a convenience store—and then the last thing on her list was, well, pot. She’d never smoked pot, not even in college, and she wanted to experiment a little.”

He was looking right into her eyes, paying attention to each and every word she said, and she loved every moment of it, and didn’t think anyone in history had ever been a better listener.

“I didn’t have the number of any drug dealers, I mean I hadn’t smoked since college and even then I never bought it, but when we were at the strip club, I asked a male stripper if he knew any and he gave me a card.

“So I called the guy, Steve something, and we agreed to meet at the parking lot of a convenience store—don’t worry, not the one we shoplifted. But when we got there, it was really dark, and Feyre was so nervous I said I’d go on my own, and then the guy was so shady.

“And then the sirens sounded, and the guy yelled at me to get out of his car and he drove away and I was left, standing there, with the most obvious look on my face, holding a small bag of weed.” Mor snorted. “I don’t think I need to say any more.”

“Well, that was very bad luck, really.” he said, smiling at her as she finished her story. “I have one question though.”

“Hit me.”

“Did Feyre ever smoke any weed?”

 

 

Mor was stumbling a bit as she approached the door to her apartment, but she felt more grounded than ever with Azriel’s hand on her back. She reached for the keys inside her purse as they got close to the door, and fumbled with them before jamming them into the lock and opening the door.

“Do you want to come in for a coffee?” she asked him.

“Um, sure.” he said. “I could use some caffeine.”

Mor gestured for him to go in and then followed him, closing the door behind her.

“Sit, make yourself comfortable.” she said as she put her keys on a bowl by the door and headed to the open kitchen. She started preparing the coffee and then clicked her nails on the countertop as it brewed. She bit her lip, counting to five before turning around. “So, you don’t have a girlfriend, do you?”

He lifted his eyebrows in surprise. “Um, no. not—not right now.”

“Good.” she said, and he flushed, looking away. She took this chance to gather her courage before she unzip her dress and let it fall to the floor.

Mor wasn’t usually self conscious, she liked the way she looked and wasn’t afraid to show it. But in those moments in between his head snapping back to her at the sound of the zipper, and his mouth snapping open, she felt a cripling fear he wouldn’t find her attractive at all.

“—and you’re naked!” he reddened instantly and looked away. “Mor—”

“What’s wrong, baby?” she said sweetly, doing a sexy little walk to get to him and sitting beside him like she wasn’t feeling more and more self conscious, wasn’t rethinking this whole idea.

“Look,” he said, still covering his eyes. “Mor—I’m sure making love to you is—I mean—oh, Gods, I’m not saying this right.”

“Oh, spit it out already.” she said, fighting the urge to cover herself.

“Mor.” he looked at her, in the eyes, not daring to look down. “You’re beautiful, and I’m flattered, but you’re drunk. We’ve been drinking the whole night and it just wouldn’t be right.”

Oh, Gods. Oh Gods, oh Gods, oh Gods.

Mor quickly grabbed at the couch blanket, so she could cover herself, but found it was stuck under Azriel. Of course. She felt tears of shame stinging her eyes as she said, “Could you—” he got up the same instant so she could pull it to herself.

“I should—” Azriel broke the silence and it the words seemed so loud and sharp against her ears she couldn’t believe it had come from the same man who had talked to her in hushed, deep tones at the bar. “—go.”

She nodded, and hated herself as a tear ran down her face. But she stood, hugging the blanket close to herself.

“No, just stay there.” he said awkwardly. “It’s okay.”

And with that he turned, mumbling an apology, and left.

 

 

Mor woke up the next day naked on the living room couch of her apartment. Her head felt like it was going to explode, and she was pretty sure she was going to barf. “Ugh.” she moaned and rubbed her eyes. It was too bright in here. Why wasn’t she in her room?

And then—then the memories of last night came back to her, and though they were blurry, she could remember nonetheless.

Oh Gods. She had made a complete fool of herself in front of Azriel.

How could she ever face him again? After what she’d pulled last night, she didn’t think she could look him in those gorgeous eyes ever again.

Sighing, hands tangled in her hair, she stood up, feeling like she had to do the walk of shame without having even had sex. She went into the kitchen, preparing a hot cup of coffee, and composed herself. At least her friends didn’t know. And Azriel didn’t seem like one to tell people these kinds of things. At least she had that.

Mor moved to her room, sipping her coffee, putting on comfortable jeans and a maroon tank top. She put on a light coat of makeup, just to make herself feel a little better—she’d always found it fun and uplifting—, and combed her hair.

She was about to go out and buy some groceries or have a little walk around the neighborhood to clear her head when she looked at her nightstand where the book she was currently reading—the biography of one of the grestest chefs in the hystory of Noctis—sat, and decided a little reading would take her mind right off of things.

She took a seat by the window, sighing again, and opened the book. Mor had never liked books as a child. She’d thought they were dense and boring—though maybe that had something to do with her father’s collection, which was pretty much all she’d had contact with—, but once she went to college, her excitement about classes and their material had made her try them again, and she’d found herself enjoying them, now that they talked about something she cared about so much.

Time flew as she read, and she was completely engrossed by her book, not even noticing as the sun started to go down. It was almost 7p.m. when she heard a knock coming from her door.

“Coming!” she said, putting a piece of paper on her book to mark the page she was on, and heading to the door. She opened it and there, in all his suited glory, stood Azriel. With a bouquet of roses in his hand. She gaped.

Oh, Gods.

“Hello.” he said casually, as if he hadn’t seen her naked just last night.

“H—hi.” she stuttered. “What are you doing here?”

“I wanted to say sorry again, for last night.” he said, tipping his head to the side and looking at her with those gorgeous eyes.

She flushed and said, “That was hardly your fault, Azriel.”

“Still, I feel bad.”

“So is that why you got those flowers?” she guessed. “I didn’t peg you for the kind of guys that buys flowers when he’s sorry.”

“I’m not.” he said, reddening a bit too. “I’m the kind of guy who buys flowers when he’s going to ask a girl out.”

“Oh.” Mor said.

“Oh?”

“Yes, oh.” she repeated and looked down. “I just don’t understand. I made a complete fool out of myself last night. I don’t understand why you’d even want to go out with me. You’re successful and smart and charming, and I’m between jobs and I can barely afford this place and I get naked in front of a guy I just met—”

She was babbling, and she looked so uncomfortable and cute that he closed the space between them—putting his arms around her, careful not to tousle the flowers—and kissed her softly, cutting her off.

At first, she was frozen in spot. She couldn’t believe he was kissing her. But then her hands came up to tangle in his hair, and she kissed him back gently. It started off light and soft, but then he deepened the kiss, holding her tightly to him.

“I’ve been wanting to do that since I first saw you in that bar.” he said as he stepped back, grabbing a strand of her hair and putting it behind her ear.

“Me too.” she said, breathlessly.

His lips found hers again, and she felt like she could get used to this. Losing herself in him, in the feeling and taste of his mouth, in the touch of their bodies as they moved around each other’s.

They were still standing in the doorway, and Mor finally started to walk backwards, closing the door on the way. They kept kissing, kissing, kissing, and only when the back of her knees hit the couch did she break the kiss, gasping for air. He didn’t stop touching her tough, dropping the flowers to the ground and kissing down her neck, sucking at her pulse point, nibbling her ear. She gasped.

She turned them around, making Azriel sit down, and straddled him. He reached to pull her tank top up and over her head, and as she felt the cold air against her naked torso she sighed and kissed him again—she didn’t feel like she’d ever get enough of this—, pushing his suit off him and fumbling with his tie.

Azriel put a hand on her back and laid her down on the couch, kissing a line down her throat and neck to her breasts, sucking one nipple while flicking the other with his fingers, and she gasped at the touch. Mor grabbed at his hair as his hand traced slow circles all over her naked torso before going down and circling her belly button. His mouth soon followed, placing wet kisses down, down, down, until it reached the waistband of her pants. He licked at her navel hungrily and she moaned.

He looked at her.

“Oh, don’t be a tease, Az.” she said in a husky voice.

He laughed and pulled her pants down, along with her underwear.

The first touch of his tongue to her core made her want to scream in pleasure. And as he went on she couldn’t help herself as she whispered, “Fuck, Az.”

He growled his approval at her words and adjusted her legs around him, and she could not do much more than lie back, gripping his hair tightly, and relax into his touch. She ached for him, dying and coming alive and wanting to savor this moment forever. He licked and kissed his way to her climax and pretty soon she was shaking in his arms, moaning his name so loud he had no doubt the neighbors could hear.

Azriel reached up to kiss her full on the mouth as she came down, and whispered, “Just so you know, I like you because you’re so unapologetic you.” he kissed her brow. “And because you’re in between jobs but you still make it work, and because you have the nerve to get naked in front of a guy in the first date, and because you, Morrigan, are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.”


End file.
